You don’t realize that you are in danger until some of the men around you get knocked over by shells and bullets, but afterwards you have the feeling that you don’t care. You know you have to be there, and you don’t care a hang whether you get knocked over or not. In a way you are only too glad when you can get to close quarters with the Germans. As to the sensation caused by being struck by a bullet, it is just like being hit by a stone thrown at you: _A Sergeant of the Irish Rifles_. An “Infernal Din” Artillery fire is the deadliest thing out, and it takes a lot of nerve to stand it. The Germans keep up an infernal din from morning until far into the night; but they don’t do half as much damage as you would think, though it is annoying to have all that row going on when you’re trying to write home or make up the regimental accounts. The French seem to like the noise, and don’t seem at all happy unless it’s there. There’s no accounting for tastes: _Sergeant J. Baker_. Splendid but Awful The order was given, “Retire! Every man for himself!” It was a splendid but awful sight to see horses, men, and guns racing for life with shells bursting among them. The Germans rushed up, and I lay helpless. A German pointed his rifle at me for me to surrender. I refused, and was just on the point of being put out when a German officer saved me. He said, “Englishman brave fool.” He then dressed my wound, and he gave me brandy and wine and left me: _Gunner B. Wiseman, Royal Artillery_. How It Happened How I came to be wounded was like this. I had got my bayonet fixed in some fat German, and I could not get it out in time, and a German officer hit me over the head with the butt of his revolver. Of course I went down for the count, and when I came round I found I had stopped a stray shot with my left foot, so I had to lie among the German dead until it became dark. Then I crawled to the British lines three miles away, and into hospital: _Pte. P. Rourke, North Lancashires_. Joe to Bill You know, Bill, it looked hard to see my old chums mowed down like sheep.... After being under shot and shell for seven hours, Bill, I know what it is to be at death’s door. You can bet your hat God answered my prayer, for I asked and He accepted. They were killed on each side of me, and shells were bursting front and back, but none hit Joseph, so that was a Godsend. What do you say? I know what I think, Bill: _A Reservist of the Lancashire Fusiliers_. The Stuffing Wrong “Never say die till you’re dead” is the only motto for us in the firing line, for every hour of the blessed day you’re expecting to have your head blown off by a German shell, and you wonder how on earth you managed to escape every time it hits something else instead of you. Their shells make awful havoc when they do burst, but it is not so often as you would think. There seems to be something wrong with the stuffing of them: _Engineer Hughes, Royal Artillery_. Guarded!